<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>uhh by Anonymous</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24202450">uhh</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>South Park</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Come Swallowing, Cuckolding, M/M, Oral Sex, Voyeurism, age gap, noncon shifts into very con, tweek could be 18 but lets be safe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 15:07:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,672</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24202450</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Craig's dad mouthfucks Tweek.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak, thomas tucker/tweek tweak</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>78</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Anon Works, Anonymous</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>uhh</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In early May, Laura Tucker stumbled upon a folder hidden deep on her husband’s work laptop. By late May, they were officially and formally divorced. He’d lost the house, both cars, and eighty percent of his paychecks for the next decade, but it was worth it to keep Laura’s mouth shut. What really hurt was losing custody of the kids. Though he was sure his ex-wife was filling his kids’ minds with all sorts of poison, she was merciful enough to hide from them the ultimate source of their separation. After two weeks alone in his one-bedroom apartment, Thomas was calmly considering suicide. A surprise visit from both Craig and Tricia one Friday afternoon violently shifted the tide of his life. Craig admitted they were there without their mother’s knowledge, having snuck his new address off of an envelope. Tricia, ever a mommy’s girl, texted through the visit. It was easy to take Craig aside and ask that next week, he come alone.<br/>	Thomas bought a bong and good weed. He bought a comfortable fold-down futon for his living room. He bought his son’s favorite snacks, a few six packs, a shiny new bottle of tequila, a nanny cam, the newest Playstation, and all of the factory-sealed games that the chubby girl at the counter had described as “huge.” He bought a few boxes of ramen to get him through to his next paycheck.<br/>	Craig was perceptibly nonplussed upon seeing the prizes his father had, ostensibly on a whim, gathered for him. Both were vaguely aware of one another’s occasional propensity toward weed, but it took a bit of wheedling to convince Craig to sit and share a bowl with his dad. Even stoned, he sat stiffly, refusing Thomas’s fervent offerings of food and drinks.<br/>	He had planned to take a step further that day, but his son’s reticence scared him into only shallow conversation until Craig was putting on his shoes to leave. Apropos of nothing, Thomas blurted that Craig was welcome to bring Tweek next time. His son paused briefly, terrifyingly, before agreeing, voice pitching up agreeably.<br/>	Thomas bought a K-cup machine. He bought black-out curtains. He bought a carton of cigarettes, and then threw them away. Tweek relaxed after a smoke, but Craig nagged him to quit. The last thing he wanted was for them to fight.<br/>	The third week could hardly have gone better. The boys smoked themselves stupid and played Playstation, almost forgetting that Thomas was in the room. For one glorious second, Tweek pressed his mouth sloppily to his son’s; only Craig had the mind to pull free, mumbling something that had both of their gazes flicking over to where he sat at the kitchen table, pretending to type at his laptop.<br/>	Punchy from success, Thomas was able to finally take the plunge as the boys sat on the floor, waiting to come down a bit before heading back home. He casually offered Craig the spare key, saying something vague about possible future emergencies. As if only thinking of it on the spot, he added on that they were welcome any time, whether he was home or not. He made sure to mention that he would be home after six, Tuesday to Saturday. He was careful not to emphasize that the apartment would be empty until then.<br/>	For the next year, the blurry recordings were enough.</p><p>	May came again. Thomas sat in his mini kitchen—a kitchenette, he thought the landlord called it—uploading some pictures. At noon on a Monday, he wasn’t expecting any interruptions. When he heard the key working in the lock, he panicked; he snapped the laptop shut and, without thinking, slid it down the gap between the stove and the wall. He winced as he heard it crunch against the tile. There was no time to pose himself nonchalantly. When the door opened, he stood, stuck in the center of the living room, still erect in his loose sweatpants.<br/>	Tweek stood in the doorway, his mouth a tight little ‘o’. He kept his hand on the knob. “O-oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d be home…uh.”<br/>	Thomas shook his head. “You’re fine. It’s fine.”<br/>	They stood silently for a moment.<br/>	“I thought Craig might be here.” Tweek offered meekly.<br/>	“Shouldn’t you be in school?”<br/>	“Uh, i-it’s a teacher work day. Craig and I didn’t have, err, plans to hang out, but, uh, he’s not answering his phone, so, uh…I don’t know. I’m sorry. I’ll leave you alone.”<br/>	“No, no, come inside.” Thomas urged, a little too enthusiastically. He chided himself internally, settled himself down a bit, and added, “Craig’s not here, but he will be soon. He said he would come over today. I forgot until just now. Thanks for reminding me. Ha, ha.” Bad lies.<br/>	Tweek nodded, like all that made perfect sense. Still trembling with nerves, he stepped inside, pushing the door closed behind him, cutting out the light.<br/>	“Take your shoes off. I’ll grab us something to drink.” Really, he only wanted an excuse to hide his boner, which had only risen since the boy arrived. He resisted the urge to peek behind the stove, reminding himself that he had a back-up drive stored in the safe in his closet.<br/>	Thomas had paid careful attention to his son’s boyfriend over the past year. He knew that coffee from his parents’ place got him unpleasantly high, but the coffee they made at the apartment just pepped him up somewhat. He knew weed made him giggly and a bit slow. He knew that despite his high tolerance for just about any substance that could be popped, snorted, or smoked, a beer was enough to drop him on his ass.<br/>	In the freezer, there was a small bottle of vodka. It was just eight dollar shit, from Walmart, probably. He hooked two chilling shot glasses on his fingers, but then thought better of it, opting instead for a couple of tall glasses. He was careful not to glance over at Tweek while he worked, for fear of looking as if he was doing something wrong, which he was. Into one glass, he poured a shot, and filled the rest with cranberry juice from the fridge. Into the second, he poured the glass more than a third full, added in a full pack of cherry Kool-Aid powder, nearly a half cup of sugar, and then topped the rest off with cold tap water.<br/>	He managed to pin his erection under his waistband before turning back to the living room area, where Tweek sat primly on the very edge of the couch. He took the glass Thomas offered him, but frowned as the smell of booze hit him.<br/>	“It’s kind of early to be drinking. We should wait for Craig, at least.” The kid had been comfortable enough to fall asleep on that futon for ten months, but as soon as he didn’t have his boyfriend at his hip, he was a complete stranger. It kind of pissed Thomas off. His hand twitched a bit, but he kept it back.<br/>	He thought up a fast lie. “Ah, well, this is the good stuff. Craig just chugs everything—let’s not waste good booze on him. I have a cheap bottle of tequila he’ll be just as happy with.”<br/>	Tweek didn’t say anything. He took a gentle sip at his drink. His nostrils flared, but he didn’t bitch.<br/>	Thomas tried to set the pace by taking a deep slug from his glass. The vodka barely stung. He could probably have chugged the whole glass, but he didn’t want to tip his guest off to the imbalance in their alcohol content. While he considered his next move, Tweek seemed to come to some sort of agreement with himself. He threw back half the glass. Thomas watched his throat move as he swallowed hard, twice.<br/>	Thomas never thought of himself as gay. As his interests honed to their finest point, he began to think that his predilections were perhaps even more heterosexual than the average man’s. His wife had slowly transformed in his eyes over the years. Her wide ass, big tits, and thick bush had once represented femininity at its highest peak. Last he’d seen her, she had become indistinguishable from a man to him. There was nothing male about Tweek, not to Thomas. He was curves from the crown of his dandelion hair to the smooth pink bottoms of his feet, utterly devoid of harsh angles. He had the genderless build of a Renaissance cherub; eyes like wobbling puddles of pistachio pudding, rimmed with downy blond eyelashes; he was, in all, small, smooth, soft, and pale.<br/>	Tweek played a bubble popping game on his phone, badly, thumbs dragging. He was succumbing to the booze quickly, but maybe not quickly enough. Any minute, Craig could text him back, alerting him that he never intended to meet at the apartment.<br/>	Thomas had no real plan when he announced that he was going for a piss. In the bathroom, he ran the sink for a moment. He purposely avoided his own gaze in the mirror, instead looking down in the gap between the counter and the toilet, where he kept the little trash can. There were a few strings of used floss, toilet paper he’d used to wipe hair from the sink, a tied-off condom from last night’s masturbation session.<br/>	The idea sprung into his mind fully formed. He snatched the condom out, shaking off the bits of debris sticking to it. After taking a brief break to readjust his junk, he strode confidently back into the living room.<br/>	“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something, Tweek.” Thomas’s dad voice was a bit dusty. It still managed to rouse Tweek, who instantly shrunk into himself. “I found this.”<br/>	Tweek squinted at the condom pinched between Thomas’s fingers.<br/>	“I know that you two are having sex, but having sex in my bed….” He didn’t have cameras in the bedroom, but sometimes they would disappear down that hall for an hour or so, leaving the sheets smelling salty-sweet, so it was a fair guess. Judging by the way Tweek blanched, he got it right.<br/>	“That’s not ours.” Tweek shook his head, hard, gripping his cup with white knuckles.<br/>	“Don’t lie to me.”<br/>	“We don’t use condoms.” It takes a second for his face to go from white to red.<br/>	Thomas knew that, but he remembered to look stunned. “You fuck my son without protection?” His stomach was flipping pleasantly.<br/>	“No, I—I—” There were tears in his eyes. He’d never looked more beautiful, almost curled into a ball on the couch, holding his cup tight as if it was Craig’s hand.<br/>	“You don’t have sex in my apartment?” Thomas stepped closer, almost between Tweek’s knees. “Don’t lie to me.”<br/>	“We—we do—”<br/>	“Do you have sex in my bed?”<br/>	The tears were really falling. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”<br/>	“Show me what you do to my son.” Thomas demanded. He grabbed Tweek by the back of the collar and pulled him to the floor, where he landed hard on his hands and knees. “Get on your knees and you show me what you do.”<br/>	Tweek nodded, face to the floor. He didn’t move.<br/>	“Don’t make me tell you again.”<br/>	“I—I can’t do it while you’re standing.” He was shaking, hard, dripping wet spots onto the carpet. “I’m too short.” <br/>	It took everything Thomas had not to laugh out loud. He had never been harder in his life. As nice as it would have been to have Tweek undress him like a slaveboy, there simply wasn’t time. He yanked his sweatpants halfway down his thighs before plunking down on the couch.<br/>	“How do you suck my son’s cock?” Thomas demanded, grabbing Tweek by the hair to pull him close. It was just as soft as he’d always imagined.<br/>	Tweek didn’t hesitate a moment before dipping his head low, pressing his tongue at the base of the shaft. Pushing his tongue forward, pressing in, he licked up to the head, where he pursed his lips, giving the slit a vulgar open-mouth kiss.<br/>	It was all Thomas could do to not come instantly. He wanted to grab him by the ears and fuck his mouth hard, but he held back, letting the little twink show him what he knew.<br/>	He trailed suckling kisses down his length, following the veins with the tip of his tongue, just licking and tasting. It was a wholly different experience from any woman he’d ever been with; they simply got it over with. Even through his tears, Tweek was playing with his cock, taking his time.<br/>	“Do you deepthroat my son?”<br/>	Without pulling his lips from the glans, Tweek nodded, looking up through his eyelashes. He got the message without being ordered, sliding his lips and tongue over his teeth, letting the thickness slide in smoothly. The inside of his mouth was hotter and wetter and softer than any pussy he’d ever had. There was a certain grace in the way he dipped his head down, ungagging as Thomas passed his tonsils, raising up on his toes so that he could angle his throat straight down, letting Thomas fuck up into his esophagus.<br/>	He wanted to sing praises, confess his undying love, propose, but he had the power scaled exactly as he liked it. Instead, he placed his hand on top of the boy’s head, pressing him down further, spreading his throat until he felt his nostrils press to his pubes. Tweek swallowed around his cock, milking it down with his throat.<br/>	“You suck cock like a slut.” Thomas grunted, still holding him in place. “Who taught you how to do this? Your dad?”<br/>	Tweek obviously couldn’t answer. His face was fading to a pale mauve, eyes staining pink. He couldn’t open his airway while his esophagus was stuffed full. Thomas pulled out just far enough to let him get a few gulps of air before stabbing back in.<br/>	“When you suck my son’s cock, you better swallow everything he gives you. You better thank him. If you spill a drop, we’ll start over, and I won’t give you another air break. Do you understand?”<br/>	Tweek’s head twitched up in a truncated nod.<br/>	Now, Thomas gave in. He held Tweek’s head between his palms and humped up into his mouth, fucking down his throat hard and fast, smashing Tweek’s nose painfully into his lower belly. He tipped over hard, almost painfully, into the most intense orgasm he’d had in his life. His body curled down, cradling Tweek’s head, while fat streams of cum shot directly down Tweek’s throat, into his stomach. The blond swallowed throughout, sucking hard, trying to pull the cock further down his throat, clawing at Thomas’s thighs as if he was trying to force the entire man into his mouth.<br/>	As his orgasm wound down to a couple of small spurts, Tweek pulled up and took a few breaths. Thomas was too cum-dumb to make any immediate requests, but it was apparently unnecessary. Tweek set to sucking more gently now, just nursing, tongue probing for any lost drops.<br/>	“You love cock, don’t you.” Thomas observed through gasps for air.<br/>	“I dooo.” Tweek mewled. He glanced up at Thomas again, still refusing to remove the dick from between his lips as he garbled, “Isho good.”<br/>	“Which cock do you like better? Mine or Craig’s?”<br/>	Tweek hummed, vibrating Thomas’s softening cock pleasantly. With a squelch, he pulled all the way up and off. Drool ran down his chin, staining the front of his shirt. “I like both. I want both.”<br/>	“At the same time?” Thomas, feeling a bit more tender now that he’d emptied out his nuts into the blond’s belly, pet the top of his head.<br/>	Tweek was almost purring, leaning into the pets. “Yeah. Jesus. That sounds so goooood.”<br/>	“Hmm.” Tweek’s tight little ass, fucked full of two generations of Tucker sperm…. “I think we might be able to arrange that.”</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>